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Show -6- ment-built houses near the agency in Sells. She'd rather have died than told them the truth - that her parents had been killed one night when their pickup lost control and ran off a mountain road, and that she and Matias had grown up with their old grandmother in a little hut that didn't even have a toilet. Their friends and neighbors were waiting at the camp in the hills, some of them stretched out under the shelter of the ramada where they had spent the night, others already bustling about, arranging the pots, and baskets, stacking wood for the fires. Rosa made sure that the radio was turned off and hidden in her pocket before she got out of the pickup. She didn't want Granny taking it away from her. Granny assumed charge of the camp the moment her battered loafers touched the ground. With sparse words and gestures, she distributed the baskets, divided the women into pairs, and sent them off in different directions into the hills. The men took off in the trucks to gather wood for the fires and to hunt game for supper. When Rosa found Graciela at last, she caught her breath in surprise. No one had told her that her nineteen-year-old cousin was pregnant. But there was Graciela, wearing men's jeans, a loose-fitting white cotton blouse, and a smile. "You're sure it's OK for you to do this?" Rosa walked beside her, carrying the long kuibit in one hand. "It's going to get hot." "Sure." Graciela grinned under the baskets that were balanced on her head. "I'm only five months along and I feel fine. Besides, I'm a squaw. Haven't you heard? We have our papooses in the bean patch and go right on working!" She wrinkled her nose. Graciela wasn't pretty, |